


Crimson, Ruby and Other Shades of Red

by daisiesinajar, Ruby_ish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crimson Gem of Cyttorak, F/M, Juggernaut - Freeform, Parody, temporary body swops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisiesinajar/pseuds/daisiesinajar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_ish/pseuds/Ruby_ish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance and Izzy go on a SHIELD-sanctioned mission to retrieve an object, Izzy gets possessed somehow, and shit hits the fan. Culminates in Bobbi doing mind swaps between the two.</p>
<p>Read for laughs! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimson, Ruby and Other Shades of Red

"Did you see those hulkin' men earlier? Bloody huge they were, it's gonna leave a nasty bruise." Hunter prods his side tenderly, wincing.

Izzy gives Hunter the fishhook-in-the-eyebrow look, handing him an ice pack to cool his side and a beer to refresh his spirit. “Seriously, Hunter? A bruise? How ‘bout I saved your ass while you were too busy lying on the ground, afraid of three beanpoles?”

"I was _attacked_ by those three, and they were beefcakes, not beanpoles," he grumbles. He takes the ice pack from her and presses it to his side, suppressing a yelp at the sudden cold against warm skin. "I think they broke a rib or two," he grimaces, taking a long swig from the bottle. "Think Idaho can patch me up?"

“Nah, it’s just a minor contusion,” Izzy dismisses after prodding the sore spot. “Nothing a little alcohol can’t heal.” She sits down comfortably and looks at her friend. “So, what do you think they’ll do with this object we retrieved?”

“I don’t give two shits,” he replies honestly, lowering himself gingerly beside her and polishing off his beer. “As long as they pay us the other half of the money they promised, I’m good. Been itchin’ to get back to Mexico, or maybe the Maldives. Sand, sea and hot babes, definitely a good cure for this...contusion here.” He looks over to Izzy with a smirk. “I think you’d like it there Iz.”

Izzy was still hung up on the object. The purpose of the mission was shady, and they were only handed the bare essentials needed to complete the task. But in the end, Hunter was right. Why give a shit when SHIELD decided they didn’t need to know? Something Lance says interrupts her thoughts. “Sand, sea and hot babes? Certainly something I can do-- not necessarily in that order, though.” She smirks back. “Sure you wanna leave, Hunter?”

He shoots her a warning glare. “Don’t go there Iz,” he growls. “Two can play at that game.” He shifts, wincing. “How long do these befuddled things take to heal, anyway, do you know? You’re sure it’s just a contusion-- whatever that is-- not a broken rib? I don’t wanna die in the middle of having fun with those hot Bobs-- babes! I meant babes--” he amends hastily, hoping she would just let it go, “--just because I pierced a lung or something.” He swallows and looks away and mentally preps himself for Izzy’s teasing-- knowing her, she definitely wouldn’t let this particular Freudian slip go.

Hiding her smile behind the beer bottle, Izzy is not ready to let her friend get all whiny. It never did anyone any good to show weakness-- that was her belief. “You know, if you pass out from the pain, I’m prepared to take over with the Bobs-- babes I mean.” She nudges him playfully in the side. His other side, of course. “Are you even gonna tell her goodbye?”

“No.” He turns away from his friend sullenly, ignoring her taunt.

Izzy gives him a sideways glance. The pain clearly showed on Lance’s face, and at that moment he seemed so vulnerable it physically hurt her-- he was like a little brother to her. She was aware, though, that she could never call him out on that or he would never forgive her. “Really? Not even for a last ride in the SUV?” she jokes instead, absentmindedly scratching a little ruby spot on her left arm.

His eyes widen a fraction for a split second, then he drops it to glare at her. “I’m not even going to ask how you know about that,” he says tiredly. “But no. Where are we supposed to drop off the damned package I broke my ribs for?” He fingers the strangely-shaped object, hoping to change the subject.

“Lance, really, everybody knows. The whole SUV manufacturing industry knows,” she exaggerates. “They’re already thinking of producing a custom model based on your actions in their product.” Izzy is determined to go on with her teasing, just to get a little smile out of him, but then she sees him handling the object. She leans over quickly to reach for it. “Give that to me, Hunter, you can’t handle it!” she says sharply.

“Like you haven’t done the same thing in other vehicles Iz,” he retorts, edging out of her reach. “I never asked how your mid-air rendezvous in that Quinjet went, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he mocks. “And why can’t I handle it,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s dangerous? Well I just pulled it out of that lab, I think I can handle-- Aghhh!” He drops the object onto the bench, clutching his hand in pain as it glowed white-hot.

Izzy’s eyes narrow to slits, but she doesn’t take them off Lance for a second. Everything around her blurs, and the only thing remaining in her tunnel vision is the object. As soon as it’s out of Hunter’s grip, she grabs it and holds it tight to her chest, not feeling the pain. “It’s mine, Hunter.” she hisses.

“ _Bloody_ hell!” He glances down at his hand, palm red and blistering where he’d touched the object. “What the hell was that?!” He finally looks over to Izzy and realises she’s clutching it like a treasure. “Iz!” he yelps. “Let go of it, it’s burning! There’s some sort of chemical covering its surface--” He tries to wrestle her for it, wincing as it burns against flesh.

The object is hot, burning and already stripping away the top of her tactical suit. Izzy couldn’t care less. Her eyes seemed to glow as hot as the object, and she was prepared to fight Hunter to the death if he tried to pry it out of her hands. “Just let me take it, Hunter. Nobody has to know,” she says, her voice cold and dreary and monotonous.

“Oh bloody hell. Nothing ever goes right for long, does it,” he mutters. He inhales deeply, ignoring the burst of pain in his side, and tackles her to the ground. “Give it-- _give it_ Iz--” He ducks as she swings a right hook at his head and shoves her, “Are you _possessed_ or something, when did it even have the chance to--” He darts out of the way at the last moment as she flies at him. “--possess you?” he finishes, and places a well-aimed kick that sends the object flying out of her hands and landing twenty feet away. He approaches Izzy cautiously, like he would a wild animal. “Are you alright?” he asks slowly. “Or are you still that raving nutbag? Could rival Bobbi for that title, you could.”

Izzy looks up at Hunter from the floor with an unreadable look. At least thirty percent of her skin was burnt, but she was happy to pay that price. She blinks slowly, once, twice, thrice-- then inhales sharply. “Yeah Lance, I’m fine. No worries.” Her eyes wander over to the spot under a nearby tree, where the object still lay glowing. One hand goes to her belt, where her knife was hidden.

Hunter follows her gaze and sighs mentally. _Should’ve drunk more beer while I had the chance._ “Don’t be an idiot, Iz,” he says dryly, cocking his gun and pointing it at her hand. “I don’t know what that thing did to you, or why you’ve suddenly gone all Gollum on me, but if you take out your knife, I _will_ shoot you.”

With a lazy smile, Izzy reaches up and circles Hunter’s wrist, pulling his gun down to point at her heart. “If you wanna do it, do it right, Lance. Did they teach you nothing at the Clown Academy?” She gets to her feet slowly, keeping a firm grip on his wrist. “You won’t be able to hurt me anyway. I’m much too strong now.”

Lance falters for a moment. Bobbi had done this same thing once, dared him to kill her. He hadn’t. He lowers the gun to his side, keeping his eyes trained on Izzy, and mentally wondering what shit karma he’d racked up in a previous life to always end up hanging around with women like that. His other hand reaches slowly into his pocket to dial for Bobbi-- shit situations like these were the reason he kept her on speed dial. Meanwhile though, he had to keep Izzy from possibly killing _him._ “Iz… Calm down. What’s so important about the object?”

Izzy lets out a hoarse laugh that sends a strange chill down his spine. “You really don’t know what you’re in for.” She reaches for the object, which is by now glowing an eerie red, and for the first time, Lance notices the minuscule cursive inscribed on its surface. He squints, tilting his head and trying to read, but Izzy obliges by reading it in a booming voice: _Whomsoever touches this gem shall possess the power of the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak! Henceforth, you who read these words, shall become forevermore a human Juggernaut!_

Lance frowns, about to ask if she’s really gone off her rocker, when Izzy releases a breath and looks up at him, a curiously relaxed, satisfied smile on her face. “The Ruby of Cyttorak, Hunter,” she says in her normal voice, which would have been encouraging if not for the confusing nonsense she was spouting, “It’s mine now.”

“A human what _?_ The Ruby of what? _What_ in the bloody hell are you talking about?! _” Bob, please pick up._ “You sound like Bob when she’s had too much to drink.” Lance holds his palms up in a gesture of surrender, though he keeps his gun in his hand. “Iz, come on, see sense,” he tries, stepping forward slowly and placing a hand on her shoulder. She’s not bothered by his touch in the least; she barely even seems to register it.

“This is the thing I finally see, Hunter,” she says, eyes unseeing and reflecting the object’s red glow. “I see Sense in all the things. I was this useless, screwed up pile of crap for most of my life. Now I’m Someone. I _belong_ , and nothing can stop me.”

“You sound like a nutjob Izzy. Snap out of it.” He tightens his grip on her shoulder and makes to turn her around, while imploring Bobbi under his breath to “pick up the phone, dammit!”. That must have worked somehow, because the line finally gets through.

“Bob! Thank God. Next time pick up your damned phone,” he snaps. “Izzy’s gone round the bend, she keeps wanting to pick up some object we extracted for our mission. It’s scalding hot, burned a hole through her tac suit. If you don’t get here soon, I--”

Izzy takes Hunter’s arm and easily puts his shoulder out of its joint. “I’m the Juggernaut, bitch!” she exclaims, her cry overpowering Hunter’s yelp of pain. His phone falls forgotten to the ground with Bobbi’s tinny frantic voice sounding in the earpiece. “I’m unstoppable!” She turns around, readily brushing aside Hunter’s wild swings with his uninjured hand, and makes to trample over Lance when she suddenly collapses. Lance scrambles away, breathing heavily, and claws for his phone. “Bob!”

“Hunter!” On the other end of the line, Bobbi’s knuckles turn white with the force of her grip, and she could cry with relief at his voice. “What happened-- are you alright? Is Izzy? Where are you?” Hunter cradles his arm, phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder. “She yanked my arm out of the socket,” he says, voice laced with pain, “I can’t put it back on my own. Iz yelled some stuff and collapsed; she’s still breathing. But I don’t know how long she’s going to be unconscious, I--”

“ _Where are you?_ I’m coming over right now.”

“I’ll send you our coordinates. _Hurry_ Bob, I don’t know what that thing is doing to her!”

 

-o-

 

When Bob arrives, Izzy is still unconscious, though barely recognizable. Half naked, covered in third-degree burns, and with new muscular structure bulging beneath her ruined tactical suit, she looked more alien than anything else. Beside her lay an object of odd shape. Bob was well-versed in alien objects (she hadn’t been top of her class at the Academy for nothing), and this red glowing entity could only be one thing. "The Gem of Cyttorak? Are you freakin' kidding me?" She turns to Hunter. "How on earth did you manage to overwhelm her?" 

“Stronger’n I look, sweetheart, been telling you that for years,” he smirks, wincing as she elbows him. “Hey! My arm!” Her eyes widen in apology for a second before she realises he’s exaggerating and rolls her eyes, crouching to examine Izzy. “I didn’t do anything, really. Just grabbed her shoulder, she yanked on my arm, then collapsed.” He shrugs, a worried frown on his face. “She was yelling about some nuts and bolts or other, couldn’t tell what the gibberish was.” He walks over to the object, still glowing red, and stoops, reaching a hand out--

“Don’t touch that!” Bobbi shouts, eyes wide in alarm, leaping to a sprinter’s stance as if she was about to knock it out of his hands.

“Alright, alright,” Hunter backs away, startled. “Don’t need to yell love, I saw what it did to her, didn’t I-- I’m not a _complete_ idiot.”

Heart still beating like a drum, Bobbi bends to run a critical eye over Izzy’s injuries once more. “Idiots don’t _know_ they’re idiots,” she mutters. She has a hard time not smacking Hunter in the face for his naivete. It wasn’t the first time he was dealing with something way out of his league, and he was _still_ acting like it was just an annoyance, a simple problem.

“Not nuts and bolts, idiot, it’s Juggernaut, the unstoppable force. If Izzy didn’t lose consciousness, you would have unleashed hell on earth.” Bobbi fishes about her person, miraculously pulling a syringe out of nowhere filled with a strange, pearly translucent liquid. She prods Izzy’s body, trying to find a spot that wasn’t covered in tense bulging musculature for the injection.

“Now you’re talking like a crazy person too.” He walks over and bends to hold Izzy properly for Bobbi to administer the injection, silently offering to do it when she struggles, but she just pushes his hand away stubbornly and forces the needle through. “This should keep her out for a while. At least in human terms. We have to get her to a safehouse.”

Lance purses his lips, biting back questions. “I’ll get the car. Will you be alright with her? And what do we do with the object?”

“We’ll contact Fury to retrieve it. Though in my understanding it can’t transform anyone else now that it’s gotten hold of Izzy.” Bobbi looks down at her hand and is surprised to find it trembling; she locks her knees to stop her legs from shaking, struggling hard to keep calm with her friend lying on the cold dirt on the verge of becoming a monster.

“Yes, get the car and tell as many Koenigs as possible to prepare the med bay for a secret undertaking. We have to be fast now.”

 

-o-

 

Bobbi barely waits for the car to screech to a halt outside the safehouse before jumping out (despite Hunter’s protests) to where the Koenig brothers are waiting with a stretcher. “Hurry, she’s in a bad way,” she says, leading them to the car. She lifts Izzy out easily and follows the Koenigs back into the med bay. “Grab the Gem!” she yells over her shoulder, disappearing into the building before Lance even gets out of his seat to protest. He uses his jacket to pick it up gingerly, as if leather offered any protection. It didn’t seem to be burning hot any longer, but he still holds it at arm’s length as he hurries to the rest of the team.

Lying on the pristine steel table, Izzy suddenly looks vulnerable and abused. “When this is over, I’m having a face to face with Hill,” Bobbi growls. “They shouldn’t have sent you two in to retrieve an object this dangerous, without even warning you to take sufficient precautions.” She glances over at the ruby Gem; having studied most of the known alien lore, she knew the only way to stop a Juggernaut was to get in its head. She bites her lip, turning to Izzy’s prone body and then to Lance. They didn’t have anyone on hand versed in mind-control, and they were running short on time… She would have to science the shit out of this; maybe she could use the tech suitable for transferring a consciousness from a person to an LMD. She’s done that before, so with a few adjustments… She just hopes Lance will be game.

“Lance, tell Fury to get his damned Gem of out here. And then come over, I need your head.” She plays it cool, hoping he won’t think much of it.

Lance relays the instructions to one of the petrified interns and rushes over. “I got them to radio Simmons as well, she’s with May in Germany doing God knows what.” He looks her over, anxiety spiking at the angry red of burnt skin all over Izzy’s body. “Those burns look terrible Bob-- her hands too, have you seen them?” He looks over at Bobbi deftly preparing bandages and creams. “And you said you need my head? Did I hear you wrongly? What do you need my _head_ for?”

Bobbi stares at him until he looks up from Izzy’s body and meets her eyes. “The burns will heal,” she explains. “The trick is to let her be the Juggernaut long enough so that the self-healing powers of the creature can kick in, but not too long so that she doesn’t awake and… Basically kill us all.” Bobbi continues her preparation of both Izzy’s body and the technical equipment in a state of absolute concentration. “I need you to get in her head, bring her out of there, bring back the Izzy we know.” She hands him a curious-looking apparatus resembling a helmet.

“Did I hear you right?” He looks at her as if she were crazy. “It made sense up until you said I had to get into her head.” He turns the apparatus round in his hand. “Where did you even get this, anyway,” he mutters, looking back up at her. “How’s this going to get me into her head, and what if…” He looks genuinely afraid, and Bobbi reaches out to him instinctively. “What if I can’t come back?”

“Lance, listen to me. I know it’s hard. But you can do this. Leave the how’s and what’s to me, you just go in there, search for Izzy, bring her back. You will come back, because...there is no other way. I’ll watch over you both, I will roughly know what’s going on. But yeah, I wasn’t joking, it’s gonna be your part to do the rest. Get this on your pretty head and I’ll hook you up.”

He glares at her for a moment and leans forward to steal a quick kiss. “You’d better know what’s going on,” he says darkly, fitting the strange contraption onto his head with a grunt and lying down on the cold metal table beside Izzy. “If I get stuck in her head, I’m using her to haunt you the rest of my life.”

“You seem to be doing that anyway,” Bobbi mutters, trying and failing to hide a smile, and turns to focus on the difficult task at hand. She fits a similar apparatus onto Izzy’s head before sifting through a myriad of colourful wires, connecting Lance to Izzy. She bites her lip in concentration as she checks each connecting wire to ensure they’re securely attached. Connecting the two was the least of her concerns; she’s more worried about inadvertently switching out their personalities. _Or perhaps Iz could fit in Lance’s head, he has space to spare in that head of his_ , she thinks, stifling a grin; he wouldn’t be pleased to hear that.

She assembles the components of the console and brings the monitoring screen online, her white lie to Lance niggling at the back of her mind. She hadn’t told him the truth, exactly: she wouldn’t have any clue about what would be going on inside their heads, and the only thing she could do once the process had begun was to keep the connection stable and supervise their vital signs.

Gulping, she turns around and takes Lance’s hand, squeezing it tightly-- it was as much for her anxiety as it was for his. “Are you ready?” she asks softly.

“No, but I don’t have a choice, do I?” he grumbles, eyes softening when they meet hers. Bobbi squeezes his hand once, and the last thing he sees before the world slips into darkness is the worry in her eyes.

 

-o-

 

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He can only see an arm’s length around himself, he realises as he glances around the empty void, and wonders where he’s supposed to find Izzy. He glances down-- and instantly regrets it: there’s nothing beneath him, nothing resembling anything like a floor; he was treading on air. Where he would have expected to see a small halo of golden light like he did around his arms when they were outstretched, there was only endless black. Cold sweat beads on his forehead as he forces himself to look up and ignore the churning in his stomach. “Iz? Are you here?”

It’s as if her name was a sort of summons, but the creature that appears out of the dark doesn’t resemble Izzy in the least. It was the spirit of the Juggernaut, pure force and source made flesh in the form of a gargantuan pile of muscles and anger. “Welcome to the portal to the Crimson Cosmos, stranger,” the creature roars, barrelling toward him with a fierce left swing. “Tiny beings like you won’t last long.”

Lance’s eyes widen and ducks, avoiding the blow by mere inches. “Izzy?” he says in disbelief.

“Dammit Bob, how am I supposed to bring this thing back,” he mutters, darting behind the creature. “Am I supposed to beat it up? Kill it? Bob, if you can talk to me, this might be a good time to _tell me,”_ he calls, gritting his teeth. To the creature, he taunts, “You’re big, but you’re not very fast, are you? And,” he glances around quickly, suppressing a shudder, “there’s nothing very _crimson_ about this place. Maybe you’re colourblind too? Or just very bad at naming things.”

The Juggernaut roars with rage, swinging its fists wildly every which way in an attempt to land a blow, but Lance evades its every move. It grins evilly, watching his movements start to flag and slow-- it has one huge advantage over the human and fully intends to make use of it: humans needed to rest to regain their strength, but the Juggernaut didn’t. After what seems like an eternity of a grotesque dance, the human trips and stumbles over his own feet, panting and gasping for breath. The Juggernaut bellows and stands over the him, clasping his fists together for a final crushing blow. 

“H...Hunter?” Izzy’s voice suddenly sounds out of the Juggernaut’s mouth, and Lance, cowering beneath the creature with his hands shielding his head, looks up in bewilderment. “We have to go there.” She points behind her, trying to tell him they have to go through the portal to the Crimson Cosmos. “Its grip on me there will be weaker. Be quick about it, lazybones.”

His jaw drops, wondering what kind of sick acid trip Bobbi had put him on, but quickly rolls out under the creature onto his knees and makes for the strange shimmering light. His chest heaves with exhaustion as he yells taunts over his shoulder, “Still too slow, you monster! And Hartley, you’d better make this up to me when this is all over!”

The Juggernaut bellows, pounding toward him with steps that shake the whole black void, and he gulps and darts through the portal. The moment it crosses the threshold of shimmering light, all the bulging musculature vanish, only to be replaced by an infinite number of spirits-- everyone who’d ever possessed by the Crimson Gem. They were scattered thoughts, fragments of memories, the last remnants of who they’d once been. Some looked more solid; others were mere wisps of smoke. But all of them shimmer a pearly white against the crimson background of the Cosmos, virtually indistinguishable from each other.

_Out of the pan into the bloody fire-- Hartley, you better make it up to me_ really good. Lance backs away from the spirits, bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. "Bob?" he calls to nothing in particular, hoping she would be able to hear him. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

 

-o-

 

Bobbi gnaws on her bottom lip, worried eyes trained on the monitors and hand clasping Lance’s tightly. His heart rate had spiked dramatically several times in the past hour, but now it was zigzagging erratically. "Hang on, Lance," she murmurs, "You can do this."

 

-o-

 

Izzy experiences a strange sensation as she gets separated from the force. _Maybe this is what life after death feels like_ , she thinks. _Not something I want to experience again soon-- if I ever get out of here_. She’s realised intuitively that the spirits were all bound together by some invisible force, her included; they seemed to meld and morph into one another to form a huge silently-wailing mass.

The mass of floating spirits don't seem to be approaching him, but they don’t seem to be retreating either, he notices grimly. And Bobbi was no help. He squints, unsure of what he was supposed to do or where the hell Izzy even was, when a familiar face flashes past for a split second amidst the cloud of red. "Izzy?" he calls uncertainly, taking a tentative step forward with his arm outstretched. He frowns, searching the moving mass for her face again, when he suddenly spots her. Her face is contorted in an anguished, desperate, silent yell, and cursing under his breath, he reaches in and grabs a handful of her hair, relieved when his hand doesn't simply pass through her like it passed through all the other spirits.

Being pulled by the hair was never something Izzy was very fond of-- perhaps excepting very special, very private situations. But she should have known that Hunter wouldn’t make such considerations, or indeed, thought about the discomfort involved. Not that she’s complaining-- for once, his behaviour was working to their advantage.

“Hunter, you found me,” she says thankfully, trying not to wince at the ache in her scalp. “But you can’t bring me back like this. I’m not mentally freed from the Juggernaut, and if you pull me back now, he’ll still have a hold on me.” The words pour out of her almost unthinkingly; she doesn’t even know how she knows these things-- it was as if she was finally making sense of the unintelligible mutterings by the other spirits.

“He fills me with fear, but also with rage and anger against everything human; as soon as I awake in my human form, I’d destroy you for good-- as well as everyone close by. He-- He’s feeding on every bit of guilt, vexation, disdain I’ve ever-- basically every bad thought I’ve ever had in my life.” The despair finally catches up to her and it shows in her voice, “Hunter, and it’s like he’s multiplying that emotion exponentially, I can feel the rage building up. I’m his now. _Hurry_ ”

Lance manages to shift his grip to her wrists, keeping a tight hold to stop her from floating around and getting lost in the red mass. His frustration grows in every line of his face as she speaks, "Then what the bloody hell are _we_ supposed to do? Unless you were a bloody saint, you can't tell me you haven't had negative thoughts-- just yesterday you threatened to castrate me!" He casts his eyes around the Cosmos, as if the answer would magically surface with blinking neon signs. "Where are we, anyway? If I kill this Jugger… Jagger Nut thing, that'll solve things, right?"

Izzy shrugs and sighs. “Yes, Hunter, that’ll do. He’s in a weakened state now. But not here-- this is the spirit realm, nothing here takes effect in reality-- Well, at least not death. To kill the Juggernaut you’ll have to do it back in the real world.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he nods. “Well, sounds straightforward enough, if not exactly simple. Just stab the bast--”

“No, Hunter,” Izzy interjects. “You’ll have to stab me. You’ll have to kill _me._ ”

He stares at her incredulously. "You want me to kill you," he clarifies.

She nods.

"For real."

She nods again, and he stares at her speechlessly for a moment before practically dislocating his jaw gaping. "Are you bloody insane?! Are you even Hartley?! You want me to go back out of this nightmare-- which I have no bloody clue how to do, by the way-- and _kill_ you?! What-- Do you think Bob would even believe this... This madness, let alone let me _kill_ you?! She would kill me first!"

"I know, Hunter, but it's the only way. You know very well what would happen if you don't step up now. My body has to be dead, then the demon spirit will go back in the Gem and be trapped again." Izzy gives him a sad smile. "Tell Bob… I..." she sighs resignedly, “Tell her I'm sure it’ll work, because I _was_ him. I knew his thoughts, his weaknesses, and how to defeat him.”

“But--” Lance cuts himself off mid-sentence. They could go back and forth all day, he knew; Izzy was as stubborn and bull-headed as he was. He was better off talking to Bobbi and trying to figure out a better solution. He nods to Izzy curtly, squeezes her hands goodbye, and shuts his eyes, wishing himself back to consciousness and praying like hell it would work.

 

-o-

 

Bobbi can sense something is different, and the signs on her monitor confirm that. Lance's heart rate is slowing down, his blood pressure dropping to normal. She can only hope she’s drawing the right conclusion, that he found Iz and was ready to bring her back. By removing the coma-inducing pulsing wires and adding a firm fist to his chest, she wakes him up.

“ _Bloody_ hell!” he chokes, hand coming up to push hers away. “That’s going to bruise, you’d better be ready to kiss it better,” he glares. He sits up and removes the contraption from his head, looking over at Izzy with a frown.

“So? What happened? Did you find her?”

“Yeah, I did… She’s trapped in there with lots of little red ghosts, says I can’t bring her back because she’ll turn into that Jagger Nut or somethin’ or other and kill us all.” He shrugs. “That’s the gist of it, anyway.”

He swings his legs over the edge of the table and his world spins; he almost brings the table crashing down on himself. Bobbi rolls her eyes and steadies it as he gasps a thanks-- the experience had left his muscles weak, he realised. Swallowing the shock, he turns to Bobbi. “Izzy asked me to kill her,” he mimes stabbing a knife into her heart, “Said it was the only way. I figured you’d have a better idea.” He looks at his ex-wife hopefully.

"Kill her?" Bobbi says with a frown, ready to shout at Hunter for even bringing it up. But then her face suddenly brightens. "Of course!" she exclaims, "That's genius! But Lance, I'm gonna need your head again."

He’s shocked that she not only didn’t protest, but thought it was a good idea-- was she touched in the head too?

“I know what I’m doing, Hunter, trust me.” She gives him a steely-eyed glare and he groans, still uneasy, but fits the contraption back on. He shuts his eyes, preparing to get shoved into Izzy’s mind again, but realises Bobbi might have a different plan of action.

“What are you going to do this time?” he asks cautiously.

Trying to appear breezy, Bobbi says in a light tone "Oh, you know, stuffing Iz's personality in your head, then kill her so the demon is gone, then resurrect her. Ready?"

“What?!” he yelps, but Bobbi pushes a button with an apologetic smile and his consciousness fades into darkness. “I’m sorry Lance,” she says, thumb stroking the back of his hand. She can hear his heart monitor beeping steadily, but still places two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse.

Extremely nervous, she readjusts the wires and switches the neurotransmitter hub in reverse. She knows full well that this was the tricky part; all she had done so far was transmit a human consciousness to an LMD, which meant there was an empty artificial mind specifically built for the purpose. It was a miracle enough that she’d succeeded in syncing Iz’s and Lance's brain wavelengths long enough for their consciousness together earlier, but this was a hundred times riskier. What if Hunter couldn't handle another personality in his mind? What if Izzy got lost on the way? She had no means of being a hundred percent sure if it had worked until the process was complete.

Topping all that off, she knew she had to be fast if she wanted to save the world from utter destruction by a pissed-off Juggernaut, and if she wanted to prevent Hunter from becoming a total nutjob.Though after the former, everything else would be a moot point anyway.

Gritting her teeth, Bobbi closes her eyes for a second, then begins the process.

At about seventy percent completion, she starts gathering several chemicals and a rather large syringe over to the biological safety cabinet, slipping on goggles and gloves before measuring and mixing precise volumes in Erlenmeyer flasks. She makes quick work of it, careful not to inhale any gas or spill any liquid onto exposed skin, and swirls the flask one last time. The solution turns from a noxious green to clear liquid with the viscousness of water, and looks perfectly harmless. It’s tasteless, odourless, and, as Bobbi knew all too well, definitely deadly. She tips the liquid into the syringe, tapping the needle before striding over to where Izzy lies motionless and pale, and after making sure the neurotransmitting is a hundred percent complete, she plunges the syringe into her chest without hesitation, emptying its contents into her bloodstream and abruptly letting go as the clear liquid burns through the plastic syringe with an ominous sizzle. Within seconds, Izzy’s body seizes up, her mouth foaming and blood pressure spiking dangerously-- before a monotonous beep fills the room.

Bobbi falls to her knees from exhaustion-- She’d just killed her best friend.

She allows herself a minute to regain her strength, fighting back exhausted, anxious tears, then goes over to Lance to wake him up, hoping she hadn't accidentally transferred the Juggernaut in him, too. He rouses quickly, jerking up with enough force that he dislocates the wires from the headpiece. He yanks it off, making a sound of disgust as he turns it over in his hands.

He looks up at Bobbi, “What happened Bobbi, I--” Then his eyes widen and jaw drops as he looks down at his hands, turning them over in horror and fascination, the head contraption forgotten in his lap. “Bobbi,” he says in a strangled voice. “I asked you and Hunter to kill me. _What did you do?!”_

She resists the urge to laugh despite the severity of the situation, her worry about Lance’s own mind forgotten momentarily. “Hi Iz,” she grins. “Didn’t wanna kill you, and didn’t have an LMD handy, so I transferred your consciousness into Hunter’s mind…” she trails off, a frown creasing her forehead as she hurries forward.

She pushes Izzy-Hunter back down onto the metal table, using a pen light to quickly check for pupil dilation and reflexes. “I don’t know how this works,” she admits. “I don’t know if only one consciousness can occupy a body at a time, or what happens when there are two-- does the other one disappear?” She scrubs her face, willing tears and fears to stay down.

Izzy wrinkles her nose. "You know Bob, if you wanted me to be a man for you...I could have just cosplayed one. No need to actually--”

She suddenly interrupts herself, as her hands, examining the new body in disbelief, come to a halt just below Hunter's belt. "Oh… _Oh._ _Now_ I see why you keep going back to him." Izzy smirks, looking over to her dead, still slightly burnt body. A shiver runs through hers-- Lance’s-- body.

"Thanks Bobbi. For all that. Couldn’t have been easy to kill me, even if it’s not for real or for long-- I know you love me,” she winks. “So what now? Can't imagine Hunter would like me to stay here in his body for long."

Bobbi gazes back and forth between Izzy-Hunter, Iz's dead body and the Gem, still lying innocently enough in a small crate. How would she know when the Juggernaut had been expelled from Izzy’s body and trapped in the Gem again? Was there going to be a puff of smoke or some mysterious glowing? She couldn't keep Iz dead for too long, either-- rigor mortis was a bitch to shake off-- maybe she could get her to a stasis chamber? But--

Her thoughts are interrupted when Lance's hand grabs her wrist.

“What the _bloody_ hell did you do Bob?”

He’s as pale as a sheet now, clutching his head as if he was going to faint. “I have a killer headache,” he winces, “worse than when we used to argue, and that’s saying something.”

He looks over to his left at Izzy’s motionless, half-healed body, and back to Bobbi. “You did it, huh,” he says grimly. Realisation dawns on him and he shakes his head in bewilderment, “So I have Iz in my head now too. Not enough that she was in my ear all the time, now she’s in my _bloody_ head eh?” He raps the side of his head, muttering about how this was a sodding nightmare, and glares at the blonde. “You’d better have an idea of how to fix this, Bob.”

Bobbi bites her lip, looking away, and her hesitation is enough to make him groan.

"I'll make this work, Hunter, you know I always do." Bob states between gritted teeth.

"Well, at least I trust you,” Lance says, and Bobbi blinks bewilderedly at him-- he _trusts_ her? And said it _out loud?_ \-- before realising that Izzy must have control over Lance’s body again. She sighs. This was going to be confusing, at the very least.

“If worse comes to worst, I can always take over this body. It's not too bad,"  Izzy jokes, smirking at Bobbi’s confusion. She sits up, swings her-- his?-- feet over the side of the table, and crosses her legs. And instantly grimaces and uncrosses them-- it felt weird with _bits_ in between.

"Ehm, nope, I don't think I will ever get used to this."

“Neither will I,” Bobbi says as she walks over to the Gem. “I’d like to have my ex-husband back, mind and all. I don’t think V-- your other ah, _partners_ , will be too happy if I slept with you, even if it’s technically Hunter’s body.”

She carefully lifts the crate, peering at the crimson Gem from every angle. “It’s stopped glowing…” she observes. “But how do we know if the Juggernaut has been properly trapped?” She turns to Izzy. “I can’t risk reviving you until I’m sure he’s gone from your body.”

Izzy shrugs Lance’s shoulders. She’d only been the Juggernaut for a short while, and while she had access to all his thoughts then, it hadn’t been enough time for her to figure out how to get the spirit back in the crystal. That'd been the one thing the creature wouldn't let slip, for obvious reasons.

Clutching at straws, Bobbi carefully brings the crate over to Izzy's body, placing it beside her. And then she startles and leaps back as the Gem starts to shake violently and glow. Could it be…? Biting her lip, she approaches it cautiously, gesturing for Izzy-Hunter to stay back, and flips the crate over in one smooth move so that the red stone tumbles out onto Izzy's belly. To her horror, it hisses and seems to emit steam, as if it would burn right through the flesh-- she’s just about to grab it with her bare hands when the glow fades instantaneously. She blinks, waiting just in case…

A minute passes, then five, then ten. Nothing happens; the Gem remains innocently inanimate. Hoping like hell she was right, she dons protective lead-lined gloves-- not that they would’ve been of any help, but she was taking all the extra help she could get-- and gingerly places the Gem back in its crate, sealing it shut with Stark-invented cement.

"I… I think we're good now." She pulls off the gloves, slumping against the table wearily.

“Does this mean I get my body to myself now?” says Lance grumpily, and Bobbi knows Hunter probably kicked Izzy off the ‘controls’ again. “I don’t like appreciate being felt up by myself, when it’s not me,” he glares at Izzy’s body.

Bobbi hides a chuckle. “Yes. All I have to do now is… bring Izzy back from the dead, transfer her consciousness back into her own body, and hope I don’t mess it up.” She walks over to the corner of the med bay and pushes the defibrillator machine over, frowning as she waits for the machine to heat up.

Lance folds his arms, eyes narrowing. “What’re you frowning about? And I know that frown, it means something’s up, don’t bother lying to me.”

"It's… I… No, I'm good,” Bobbi mumbles in reply. It was one thing to shove two personalities in one brain, but a completely different thing to separate them again properly. How would she know which brain waves belonged to whom? Well, it's a fifty-fifty chance, she calculates, or... she could get two Izzy-Hunter hybrids. _Think fast, act faster_ , she chides herself, _no point waiting around._ Inhaling deeply, she grits her teeth and resurrects Izzy with a little electroshock and a little adrenaline. Then she flips the neuro-transferring device to reverse and hopes for the best.

Lance watches in half-horror and half-fascination as Izzy stirs and sits up, moaning at the shock and the bruises she’d sustained from fighting Lance earlier. “Bloody hell,” she says, and he nearly falls off the bed. She was _him,_ or he was her, but either way essentially Bobbi had transferred the wrong consciousness to the wrong bodies. It takes another second before Izzy (or was it Lance, now?) realises what’s happened, and they both turn to Bobbi in outrage and despair. The look of shock on Bobbi’s face would be comical if it wasn’t for their situation.

" _Shit!_ " She immediately fumbles on the control panels to diagnose what had gone wrong. Surely it was too much to hope that she’d somehow get them fixed before they tackled and killed her together?

Lance winces at the pain on his chest where the defibrillator pads had been attached, and touches it out of reflex. But they feel strange-- He prods a little more, then flushes red. "Oh, sorry Iz,” he stammers, feeling her breasts underneath his hands-- well, _her_ hands, but still. He looks down at him-- her?-- and bounces up and down a little, watching them move in fascination. "How you get anything done at all is beyond me."

Izzy rolls her eyes and glares. "Stop it Hunter. And oh, it’s great, just  great. I'm stuck in this body, where even the thought of boobs makes all my blood flow down south to the pogo stick,” Izzy complains, flushing at the sensation despite herself. "Bob!" she hisses in Lance’s voice. “ _Do_ something!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” she mutters, fiddling with the controls in concentration. Suddenly, she looks up, eyes darting between the two of them-- Lance in Izzy’s body with her hands on her chest, looking mighty pleased and amused, and Izzy in Lance’s body, face flushed with anger and embarrassment as she hunches to try and hide the bulge in his pants-- and she can’t help it. She bursts out in laughter, clutching her sides, tears leaking out her eyes.

Izzy and Lance both jump down the table simultaneously, approaching Bob with a force that pretty much resembles the Juggernaut, halting just inches before the gasping and tearing blonde. They even fold their arms in the same angry gesture.

"Cut it out, Bob and switch us back." Iz demands in Lance’s voice.

"This is sodding ridiculous!" Lance adds, avoiding glancing over at Izzy, because he’s only just realised how much Izzy’s body towered over his own, which he now has to look down on.

"I... I don't know how!" Bobbi confesses, sobering and biting her lip. "It's exceedingly complicated to separate your brainwaves. Even if I were to try and repeat the process, there are bound to be overlaps in your thought processes and patterns, I'm not sure how that will translate during the separation. You might end up with half your thoughts and memories and half of Hunter's," she turns to Lance, "and for you, half of Izzy's."

Lance's face looks horrified as Izzy sputters, "I don't want half his memories!" the same time that Izzy's face breaks out in a huge grin as Lance crosses his arms smugly, "I don't mind half her memories, as long as it's the right half." He wiggles his brows at Izzy in his body, mentally shuddering at how odd it was to look at his own body. "Besides," Lance bounces on the balls of his feet as he looks down at his chest, "I've always wanted to see Izzy in a dress." He grins wickedly and attempts a clumsy curtsy.

"Zip it Lance, or I'll kill you in my own body." Izzy hisses.

The veins in Bobbi’s forehead are practically bulging; she needs something to distinguish Lance from Izzy, differentiate the essence of their beings But wat could that be? They were both tough, stubborn, bad-ass, laconic. Like Lance with his _bloody hell_ s and-- _Oh._ The idea comes as brainwaves often do, half-formed but with lightning-sharp clarity: Hunter was British, and she’d read an article a while ago about how memories and personalities only form in children when they're connected to an inner language, a way of translating experiences and thoughts into words so they could be encoded. So between a British and an American mind, there _should_ be significant differences in structure and pattern.

She doesn’t tell them it’s pure conjecture.

Squaring her shoulders, she points at Izzy’s body. "Okay Hunter, take a last look down that new body of yours. I’ve found a solution."

"Pity, these were starting to grow on me," he prods his new chest, grinning.

Izzy smacks his hand away. "Didn't know you liked me so much, Hunter," she says, and he reddens and drops his hand.

"What solution?" he asks hastily, hoping to change the topic before Izzy teases him any further.

"I think I might be able to distinguish your memories based on the accent you encoded them with," she thinks aloud. "I hope you didn't impersonate too many Brits, Iz. Hunter might keep those memories, I'm not sure."

Izzy shrugs. "I could do with a little more brain space, nothing about those missions were worth remembering anyway," she says, at the same time that Lance protests, "Hey! Why didn't you ask if I impersonated Americans!"

"Your American accent makes you sound like a douchebag Hunter," Bobbi replies, sharing a snigger with Izzy and ignoring his exclamation of outrage. "I'll make sure to turn the 'douchebag' filter on on the machine."

Itching to get out of their strange skins, Izzy and Lance both lie down on their respective tables and close their eyes, biting against further ‘Are you sure?’s before Bobbi decided to just leave them as they were in this nightmare of a mission.

Bobbi adjusts the wires and pads with experienced hands and programmes the computer based  on American and British TV shows to crack the encoding within the mind patterns. _Hail to pop culture_ , she thinks, taking a deep breath and pressing the big red button.

It takes a while (six beers, a handful of hair, and enough swearing to make a sailor blush), but their stats finally stabilise enough that she dares to wake the two brunettes on her tables. They wake with a gentle touch, much to her surprise-- and relief.

Izzy opens her eyes first. She blinks at Bobbi for a moment and states, "Is it tea-time already?"

Bobbi blanches, then scowls as Izzy breaks out in a bright laughter at the shock on her friend's face. "’M just kidding, Bob."

Bobbi scowls. “Not funny, Iz. Maybe I didn’t do it right and left some of Hunter’s annoying personality in you,” she says, ignoring Hunter’s protests again. Izzy sits up and runs her hands over her body in relief, while Lance watches with interest, having completed his own ‘checks’.

“Strange to think my hands have been there, isn’t it,” he winks at Izzy, and ducks as she aims the nearest object she can find (the half-melted syringe with the large needle) at his head.

“Say that one more time, and it’ll be the last thing you never touch,” she glares. “Bob, control him, for goodness’ sake.”

Bobbi rolls her eyes, powering down the machines slowly, exhausted from all the mind-entering and body-swapping. “As if he could be controlled Iz,” she says tiredly, turning round to Lance to remove the wires from his body. He’s ready for her though, and wraps his arms around her waist to pull her in. Seated on the table, he’s a couple of inches taller than her for once.

“Hello love,” he smiles lazily down at her, face a couple of inches away from hers. “Can you believe that just a couple of hours ago, I didn’t want to speak to you, or have anything to do with you?” Bobbi sighs and places her hands on his thighs to push herself out of his embrace, but he holds her tight, sighing dramatically. “Nothing like having your friend turned into a monster, having to enter her head, seeing evil red ghost buggers, watching her get killed _and_ revived, and turning into a woman for a short while, to get your priorities straightened out.”

He tugs her closer, lips a breath away from hers, “Let’s see if my junk still works after Izzy had her turn with it, shall we?” and closes the gap.

Behind Bobbi, Izzy groans, burying her face in her hands. “This again. _Why_ this again?!”

They both laugh a little and quieten, stilling in each other’s arms. Not knowing if she should kiss him or slap him, Bob was stuck between a rock and a hard place. (For the less initiated, the hard place was pressed against her hip.) Before she can make a decision, she spies a dark figure in the reflection of the glass walls and spins around, eyes widening.

"Director Fury, Sir." She clears her throat and steps out from between Lance’s legs, but by the roll of his eyes, that obviously hadn’t been missed. She tilts her chin up, bolstering her confidence.

"I guess you came to retrieve the object."

She turns around and carefully hands the small crate over to him. "Here's your Gem of Cyttorak, neatly wrapped up and with some Juggernaut-y goodness in it. Sealed with Stark’s new magic cement, so I’m afraid you’re gonna have to get his help to open it-- although if I may, Sir, that’s highly unadvisable.”

Fury opens his mouth to complain about having to go to that ‘rich son of a b’, but then Izzy calls out from behind him, slouching on metal table swinging her legs.

"But all's hunky-dory!" she waves, and all they can do is stare at her in shock.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Co-wrote this with Ruby_ish, where we'd take turns writing a paragraph (or three) each. Had _so_ much fun (understatement), hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it!! :)
> 
> Reviews are very welcome :)


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